Chapter Text
When Lance was seven years old, his heart was broken for the first time.
His mamì and papì had brought him inside from playing with his siblings, and sat down with him at the dining table.
They told him that they loved him.
They loved him so much that they had to let him go.
He didn’t understand.
He was seven.
His mamì told him that his father was not the man standing in front of him, but somewhere, in another country, moving with western civilization. He was living, but high above the clouds in a palace he could not touch.
She said to him, “Leandro, eres un semidiòs.”
You are a demigod.
He cried.
He cried because he was seven, and he didn’t understand.
And then a woman knocked on the door, and when she came in, Lance noticed her legs weren't quite right.
He didn’t blurt anything out because of curiosity this time. He stood silent as the woman approached him and introduced herself as Clover. She told Lance that they would be leaving Cuba and going to a camp. Camp Half-blood. Somewhere safe for people like him. For kids that are special. That have legacies.
Clover gave him a backpack and told him to pack the important things, the ones that hold the most value. And some clothes.
He went upstairs with his mamì and they packed some clothes, his shark stuffy, and a shell his papì had given him.
When they went back downstairs his papì hugged him and cried. He told him that he would always be his papì, and that he loved him so much. Then his siblings came in. They knew they wouldn’t see him for a long time.
When they all waved him goodbye, he cried again. He cried, longing for his home that he would likely not see again. And for a family that he loved so much he had to leave them.
–
The trip to the camp had been tiring and long.
There were monsters everywhere, following them all the way to the entrance.
Lance was tired and scared and alone. He wanted to talk to no one. Even Chiron, the camp director who led him to where he would be staying.
The Hermes cabin.
On the way there, Chiron explained that he was a greek demigod, and his father would claim him soon.
And he did.
Thinking back on it, almost as soon as Chiron had said that, a trident had appeared over his head.
Poseidon was his father.
Lance did not know poseidon as his father. He only knew papì.
But that day, two new people came to greet him.
Percy, and Tyson.
His half brothers.
He was wary of them at first, because they were older and he didn’t know any better. He was a scrawny kid too, which didn’t help.
But as he got to know them, he noticed that Tyson was almost shy too, and that Percy and him were close.
It made him think of his own brothers and sisters he had left behind.
He didn’t talk much at the start either. But he became comfortable around Percy, and they became close, and he taught Lance everything that he knew. And he was there for all the moments that mattered.
He was there, teaching Lance to fight: with his hands, his sword, and a bow and arrow.
He was there when Lance found out he was also a descendant of Apollo, the god of music and healing and prophecies. Powers he had as well.
Percy was there when Aphrodite blessed him because he was a legacy of the goddess of Love.
And Percy was there (and acted as the testing dummy) when Drew taught him how to use his charmspeak. And when she explained the Mist to him and how it could work with him.
Percy was there when Lance found it hard to read or stay still, but speak Greek, and Spanish perfectly.
And then, Lance told Percy he wanted to chase the stars. To see the planets that weren’t in this solar system. Planets and stars that were too far to be seen from camp.
And Percy supported him. He told him to go for it. That he was going to be an amazing pilot. That he loved him and wished him the best.
And then Percy was gone too, and Lance couldn’t even leave the garrison to find him. He didn’t even know until months later.
And of course, Lance had gone and accidentally touched the stars.